


Carry My Heart

by CateAdams



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Character Study, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Mountain Cabin, Romance, T'hy'la
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-13 08:52:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2144592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CateAdams/pseuds/CateAdams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim has always been drawn to his first officer in a way that defies his previous experience, but insists he’s never been in love. Spock doesn’t understand the emotional response he has to his captain, relying on a definition that doesn’t quite fit. The perception and realization of love is interpreted through the ending of one relationship and the beginning of another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. These Waters Run Deep

(posted on ksarchive.com beginning 30 April 2014)

 

 

Chapter One: These Waters Run Deep

 

 

     The crisp, chilled air held the scent of pine, and Jim closed his eyes and raised his face to feel the brush of the breeze on his skin. It was the first morning of shore leave on Earth after a grueling tour, and the captain of the _Enterprise_ was happy to be putting aside the burden of command for a short time.

     “Hey, Jim, you planning on actually having any of this breakfast, or you just gonna keep sniffing the air?” McCoy’s drawl cut through the sound of the nearby mountain river, and Jim smiled to himself.

     “Sure, Bones. I’ll be right there.” Jim opened his eyes and studied the patterns of sunlight streaming through the trees overhead, taking one last lungful of morning air before turning and walking back up to the deck, where they had spread out their meal on a small table. As he sat down in one of the wooden chairs, he smiled at his friend and plucked a piece of bacon off his plate. “You’re the one who told me to get the hell outside and breathe some fresh air, you know.”

     “Yeah, but the eggs are getting cold.” Bones was scowling, but his eyes were bright, and he leaned back in his own chair with a sigh as he sipped his coffee. He studied the view from the deck: rocks and pine trees leading down to the roar of water along the riverbed, and a steadily climbing slope on the other side. After a beat, he snuck a look back at his friend. “Jim, you’ve got to let it go. He’s a Vulcan; they don’t do vacations.”

     “I know.” Jim made a face as he thought of Spock’s response to his invitation. His first officer had been polite, but firm; he would be staying aboard the _Enterprise_ to assist Uhura in equipment upgrades. The captain supposed he really couldn’t complain; they had been in deep space for over six months since departing on the five-year mission, and Jim knew that, between duty requirements and Jim’s own demands on Spock’s time, the Vulcan hadn’t been able to devote much energy to his relationship with the lovely communications officer. Since the near-miracle of Jim’s return from death, he and Spock had become increasingly close, and Jim supposed the dull pang of jealousy he felt was because he already missed his friend’s company.

     Bones was busying himself with his food, muttering, “You two are always together anyway. Green-blooded shadow.”

     Jim smirked, spreading jam on a piece of toast. “Jealous, Bones?”

     The doctor snorted. “Oh, I’m jealous alright. Jealous of what he’s probably getting up to right now.”

     Jim let out a sharp laugh. “Well, I can’t help you there.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Tell you what, though, after our hike, we can head down to the bar for lunch. I bet there’ll be someone to flirt with.”

     “Yeah, that’s the same thing,” Bones grumbled sarcastically.

     Jim shook his head and kept eating, knowing that McCoy’s not-so-hidden crush on Nyota was just another excuse for his continued rancor towards Spock, along with his oft-repeated complaint that Spock monopolized Jim’s free time. For the latter, Jim had no response. He himself felt slightly astonished by how much he treasured the time spent with Spock. He didn’t know if it was somehow the fault of that meld with the Vulcan’s counterpart from another universe, or some indefinable, inherent compatibility between them, but he felt oddly content and fulfilled in Spock’s presence. For a man who had never felt at home anywhere, except perhaps in his command chair, it was a surprising, and perhaps disconcerting response. And it also caused him to feel guilty, because as much as he recognized Nyota’s dismay when Spock postponed plans made with her in order to be with Jim, the captain couldn’t help the happiness he felt.

     His relationship with his first officer was made more precious by the fact that Vulcans did not, as a rule, even acknowledge friendship. He remembered only too clearly Spock’s initial confusion, and then his heart-breaking realization of the fact as he watched Jim die. Despite a lifetime of cultural conditioning, and his continued struggle to understand his human blood, Spock had remained staunchly at Jim’s side ever since, his loyalty so unshakeable some might call it devotion.

     Jim flinched as McCoy tossed a napkin at him, breaking him out of his reverie. “C’mon, kid, quit day-dreaming about the hobgoblin and finish up. I want to get this death march finished in time to start drinking.”

     The captain smiled, letting his fork fall onto the plate. “I hear that.” Together, they cleared their dishes and grabbed their hiking gear, setting out into the hazy morning.

 

 

 

     They were gone until the early afternoon, and by the time Jim and Bones reached the fork in the trail that led to the rope bridge back over the river, both were sweaty, grimy, and starving. Jim had pushed the pace, feeling the pleasant burn in his muscles, and Bones, no slouch himself to physical fitness, had kept right up, despite providing a colorful monologue. They crossed the bridge and Jim had leaned over to fiddle with one of his boots when he sensed McCoy come to a stop, muttering, “Uh, oh.”

     “What?” Jim stood up, looking in the direction of his friend’s gaze, and saw a tall, familiar figure standing on the deck of their cabin. “Spock!” Jim’s face lit up, and he couldn’t stop himself from bounding over.

     The Vulcan was standing rather stiffly, incongruously wearing jeans with what looked like his black uniform t-shirt under a gray fleece. There was a small carryall next to him, and as Jim looked closer, he saw open distress in Spock’s expressive eyes. “Jim. I apologize for my unexpected arrival, and do not wish to intrude, however, if your invitation still stands, I would like to accept.”

     “No problem!” Jim realized he still had a huge grin on his face and tried to temper it in the immediate presence of Bones, who had walked over to stand casually next to Jim.

     “Spock.”

     “Doctor.”

     McCoy crossed his arms. “What, things didn’t work out upstairs?”

     “Knock it off, Bones,” Jim said quickly, not missing the faint line that appeared in between the Vulcan’s upswept brows. He stepped up closer, his eyes on his first officer. “I’m glad you’re here. We’re, uh, just about to head into town for some lunch and a beer... .”

     “Or four,” interrupted Bones.

     “...And you’re more than welcome to join us, unless you want to hang out and get settled or whatever.” Jim realized he was speaking a little too fast, but felt rewarded by the slight easing of Spock’s tight posture.

     “I will join you,” Spock said carefully. His gaze was intense as he met Jim’s eyes. “Thank you, Jim.”

     “Sure.” Jim glanced around. “Uh, let me throw our stuff into the cabin, and probably your bag, too, and we’ll get going.” He walked forward and bent to pick up Spock’s carryall, sensing the Vulcan stiffen slightly as he neared. Tossing their extra gear through the door haphazardly, he locked the cabin and spun around, aware that the Vulcan’s eyes had never left him. Bones was still standing out front with a strange expression on his face, pointedly staring at Spock. Jim ignored it and motioned his friends toward the aircar parked along the dirt road that led back down the canyon to the nearby town.

     As they walked over, Bones glanced at Spock. “So, how’d you get here?”

     “I transported to the main road, and walked.”

     “You get that comm equipment upgraded already?” There was a not-so-subtle challenge in McCoy’s voice.

     Spock’s hands flexed slightly at his sides, but his voice remained even. “Negative. My assistance was no longer required.”

     “Really.” Bones took a breath to continue and Jim cut him off, a strange protective impulse rising within him.

     “Leave him alone, Bones. He’s here, and that’s it.” Jim slipped into the driver’s seat and punched in the startup key. He waved at the panels in front of him as Spock moved to sit in the backseat. “Check it out. If we get drunk, it’s programmed to drive us back here.”

     Bones grunted as he sat next to Jim. “We won’t need it. The hobgoblin’ll be good to drive. Right, Spock?”

     There was a pause, and then the gentle monotone came from the backseat. “Perhaps not, Doctor. I believe that I will fully participate in this vacation.”

     Jim’s mouth fell open, but Bones started laughing. “I knew you had it in you, Spock. Well done.”

     As Jim guided the aircar out to the main road and down into the town, McCoy began a story about his ex-wife’s fun-loving brother while Jim wondered what had transpired to cause Spock to suddenly appear. From the Vulcan’s tense body language and the turmoil in his eyes, Jim could only assume that it was nothing good. He felt surprised and excited to have Spock again at his side, and a pang of guilt traveled through him as he thought of Nyota. She was brave, smart, and beautiful, and he considered her his friend. He smiled reflexively as Bones raised his eyebrows at him, coming to the punch line of the story.

     “That’s it?” Bones threw his hands in the air. “C’mon, Jim, that’s one of my better stories!”

     Spock’s voice was dry. “I fail to understand why his pants were in the horse’s mouth.”

     “Yeah, well, you wouldn’t.” Bones sounded miffed, and Jim gave him an apologetic look as they pulled in next to one of the few bars in town.

     “Sorry, Bones. I’ll buy you a drink.”

     The doctor stepped out of the aircar and frowned, letting his eyes drift to where Spock was smoothly exiting his seat. “I think I’ll let you buy them all.”

     The bar wasn’t crowded, and the three men took over a booth in the back. Almost three hours later, Jim was finding that he was having trouble staying out of Spock’s personal space. The surprising thing was that the Vulcan did not appear to care. McCoy had given up making eyes at the bartender and was now watching Spock, who was peering into his almost-empty glass heedless of Jim’s proximity against the side of his body.

     “Spill, hobgoblin. Why’d y’all come crawlin’ out here when your lady is still up on the ship?”

     Spock raised both his eyebrows, still staring at the small amount of whiskey remaining in his glass. “Nyota ended our romantic association.”

     “She did?” McCoy was apparently unable to keep the edge of excitement out of his voice.

     Spock raised his eyes. “Affirmative.”

     Bones saw enough of Jim’s warning look to sit back nonchalantly in his seat. “Huh. Well, sorry, I guess.”

     The captain bumped his elbow gently against Spock’s arm. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too, Spock. What happened?”

    The Vulcan’s back straightened. “I do not wish to discuss it, at present.” He raised his glass, draining the last bit of liquor. “I do not believe this is having the desired effect.”

     McCoy raised an exaggerated eyebrow. “That’s because you’ve got that crazy metabolism. Y’all need some good ol’ straight-up sugar.”

     Spock reached into his pocket and pulled out his credit key, swiping it across the panel at the end of the table and standing up. “I am returning to the cabin.”

     Jim blinked up at him. “Wait, we’ll all go.”

     McCoy shrugged. “Sure, why not? I’ve got better stuff back home anyway.”

 

 

 

     The trip back to their cabin was spent in silence. Jim sat in the back next to his first officer, the aircar’s automated function smoothly taking them to their destination. Spock looked pensive, and refused to meet Jim’s eyes. When they arrived, Jim reluctantly followed Bones inside while Spock remained on the deck, his gaze stretching out towards the nearby river, the long afternoon light casting it in dark shadow.

     Bones immediately sprawled into one of the large chairs in front of the fireplace. “Well, whaddaya think of that?”

     Jim made a sharp motion with his hand. “He can hear you.”

     “Yeah, but he knows all about nosy humans and he came here anyway. I bet he wants to talk about it. With you.” Bones leaned his head back, stretching his arms out on either side. “I think I’m gonna want plausible deniability later on.”

     The captain shook his head and looked out the front window to the deck. Spock was gone. Pressing his lips together, Jim had made an abortive movement towards the door when he heard a faint beeping from his comm unit from where it lay on the coffee table in front of Bones.

     The doctor looked up curiously as Jim flipped open the unit. “Oh, shit. It’s a message from Nyota.”

     “This is just like fucking high school,” mumbled Bones, leaning his head back. “Y’all need to get back to acting like officers on a fucking starship.”

     “Hey, I was just minding my own business.” Jim opened the message.

 

_> Jim. I just want to know if he made it to you and if he’s alright._

     Jim furrowed his brow and keyed in a quick reply.

 

_> Yes to both._

     He waited a moment, but there was no answer forthcoming. He flipped the unit closed and stared at it, looking up as he heard a faint snore coming from his friend. Glancing at the front door, he made up his mind and headed outside.

 

 

 

     Late afternoon was hovering and the sun was approaching the walls of the canyon as Jim picked his way carefully to the riverbank. The rush of the water was loud, but somehow soothing. Constant. And Jim raised his eyes to see his friend standing next to a large boulder near the crashing water.

     Spock was very still, and made no outward demonstration that he sensed Jim’s presence. He was staring out into the water, and one hand was resting on the smooth surface of the rock. Jim stopped to stand next to him, also looking out into the maelstrom. For endless moments they did not speak, and then Spock shifted slightly, his hand moving along the granite.

     “There were no similar rivers on Vulcan. My mother often spoke of such, and told me that she missed them. I did not understand how one could feel emotion towards a natural phenomenon.” He paused. “I still do not understand, although I do...admit to a similar emotional response towards my planet.”

     Jim glanced over at him, catching the sight of the Vulcan’s profile in the low light. Spock brought his hand in front of him and looked down at it. “I have found that my experience with emotion often defies my understanding of it.”

     Jim took a breath. “Humans would say that you learn by doing.”

     The Vulcan closed his fingers into a loose fist. “I find that route to be most unsatisfactory.”

     The silence stretched out between them again, and Jim shifted his feet. “You want to talk about it?”

     Spock dropped his hands to his sides. “I melded with Nyota. She found my...emotions towards her to be insufficient. I did not understand, and asked her to clarify. She informed me that what would be an appropriate measure of regard and respect towards one’s prospective spouse in my culture differs from human expectations. From her expectations.”

     Jim’s eyebrows rose. “She said you didn’t love her enough?”

     Spock lowered his chin. “I could sense her disappointment.” He looked away into the swirling water. “She also told me that she knew I myself did not understand, but that she could not explain. I believe that, in fact, she could, but chose not to do so.”

     Jim swallowed. “She probably was pretty upset.”

     “Indeed.” Spock clasped his hands behind his back. “She told me to come here, to you.”

     Jim chuckled. “Maybe she thought I could explain it to you instead.” He shrugged. “It’s what human friends do for one another.”

     He caught Spock’s almost expectant look and held his hands up. “I don’t know if I can, though. I’m no good at relationships. Hell, I’ve never even been in love.”

     Spock raised an eyebrow and turned back to the river. “You do, however, understand the emotion.”

     “Yeah, I suppose.” Jim eyed him. “But you loved your mother.”

     “Yes.” Spock’s shoulders stiffened. “Although my experience of that particular emotion with regard to Nyota was evidently not adequate.”

     Jim sighed. “Well, from my experience, some people tend to want the whole deal: lover, friend, soulmate, everything. If they figure out they’re not the focus of your existence, they feel cheated. Like, when I was at the Academy, I fooled around a bit, but I had my mind set on finishing... .”

     He rambled on, barely noticing that Spock’s posture had straightened even further, that his arms were suddenly held stiffly at his sides and his mouth was slightly open. The Vulcan broke in, “I apologize, Jim. I require...I believe I will take a walk.”

     Jim stopped, surprised. “A walk? Now? It’s going to be pitch black out here soon.”

     “My eyesight is perfectly adequate for such conditions.”

     “I know, but... .” Jim stopped as Spock simply turned and left, unerringly finding his way among the rocks. The captain stared after him, unsure of what had happened to prompt his friend to leave so abruptly. He hoped he hadn’t said the wrong thing; having Spock be so open to him was still a fairly new development, and one that he cherished. As Jim eventually turned to head back up to the cabin, he felt vaguely uneasy, wondering why Nyota had sent Spock to him, of all people, to talk about love.

 

 

 

     The next day dawned bright and early, and Jim lay in his room on the bed, still in his clothes, with only a thin blanket covering him. As the rays of sun shone through Jim’s window and Bones was showering in the next room, he finally heard the soft click of the front door. Quickly, he flipped the blanket off of his body and jumped up, his head pounding and his mouth dry, and hurried into the main area.

     Spock was standing next to the door, his fleece zipped up to his chin and his nose and cheeks slightly flushed green, but otherwise none the worse for wear. His eyes widened slightly as he saw Jim, but the human gave him no chance to speak. “Where the fuck have you been?”

     “I was walking.” The hint of surprise had melted into his normal impassive visage.

     “All night?”

     “Yes, Jim.” Spock’s voice was quieter than usual, and held a gentle note that caused Jim to pause.

     The captain took a breath and set his jaw, looking his first officer up and down. “You’re okay?”

     “Affirmative.”

     “Shit.” Jim ran his hands over his face. “I was convinced I’d said something that made you run off and you’d gotten yourself into some trouble and it’d be my fault.” He took a step forward. “Which is stupid because it’s usually me who gets into bad situations in the middle of nowhere.”

     “I apologize.” Spock tilted his head. “And you are correct about the unfortunate situations that you seem to reliably encounter.”

     Jim chuckled. “How about you make it up to me by making coffee while I take a shower?”

     “I would be happy to do so.” There was the barest hint of humor in the Vulcan’s eyes that brought a grin to Jim’s face.

     “Did the hobgoblin say he was happy about something?” Bones walked in to the main room, dressed casually in a t-shirt and shorts and rubbing a towel over his hair.

     “Just an expression, Bones.” Jim smiled at him. “Spock’s going to make the coffee.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder as he passed and headed into his bedroom.

     “That’s serious business, kid! Does he even know how?” Bones called over his shoulder.

     “He’s pretty smart, doc, he’ll figure it out,” Jim yelled back before closing his door, chuckling to himself as he pictured the doctor’s annoyed expression.

 

 

 

     Hours later, Jim lay on his back on a large, flat rock, the sun suffusing his body with warmth. After breakfast, he had decided to take another hike, which Bones had oddly declined. The doctor had been trying to hide a guilty expression, and his gaze kept shifting to his own comm unit. Jim had done his best to ignore him and divert Spock’s attention. Luckily, despite that fact that the Vulcan had been out walking the entire night previous, he didn’t require much persuasion at all to agree to accompany Jim. Now, miles from the cabin at the edge of a high mountain lake, Jim was ready to catch up on some of the sleep that had eluded him before. He had shed his boots, and was on the edge of dozing off when he heard a nearby splash.

     He cracked an eye and shifted around to take in the sight of his first officer stroking across the shimmering surface of the lake with powerful movements of arms and legs. Now with both eyes open, Jim watched with unabashed curiosity. He had never seen Spock swim before, and it was strangely mesmerizing. The Vulcan neared the opposite shoreline and stopped, turning smoothly and heading back. By the time Spock stood up in the shallow water near Jim’s rock, the captain was sitting up fully, legs crossed, both eyebrows raised.

     “I thought Vulcans avoided water.”

     “Humans embrace it. Therefore, I find a middle ground is necessary.” Spock easily negotiated the rocky shore and walked over to stand next to Jim.

     The captain gave him a half-smile, noticing that the residual water was already drying on the Vulcan’s skin. He glanced down at his friend’s pair of swim trunks. “How’d you know to bring those?”

     “You mentioned that our destination today would be a small body of water,” Spock replied dryly. He raised his face to the sun, closing his eyes. Jim kept watching him, his eyes traveling over his friend’s toned physique, usually hidden under layers of uniform. Lean, but with defined musculature, broad shoulders leading down to a narrow waist and hips, accentuated by that damn clingy suit that Jim couldn’t help but notice. As Spock’s eyes opened again, Jim tore his gaze away, focusing instead out to the middle of the lake, aware that his breathing had quickened and his skin was flushed. He chewed his lip, hoping he could blame it on the heat. It wasn’t the first time he had entertained thoughts about the attractiveness of his first officer, but, for some reason, now they seemed to carry more significance.

     Spock did not appear to notice Jim’s difficulties. “I do not wish you to continue to believe that your words last night were offensive. Indeed, they were quite the opposite.”

     Jim swallowed, forcing nonchalance. “Oh, really?”

     “Yes. I was able to ascertain Nyota’s reasoning.”

     The human shook his head. “Spock, I don’t think reason had much to do with it.”

     Now the Vulcan fixed him with an intense stare, made slightly less effective by the way his black hair was drying in a lopsided, spiky arrangement. Jim smothered a smile. “I mean, you know, love seldom makes any sense.” He cleared his throat. “At least that’s what they say.”

     “They?”

     “Yeah,” Jim replied, with a hint of sarcasm. “People who’re in love.”

     Spock raised an eyebrow. “But you have not found yourself in such a situation?”

     Jim let out a guffaw. “I heard the subtext there, you know. Why have I never been in love when I’ve had so many opportunities?”

     The Vulcan lifted his chin primly. “I do not believe I said that.”

     Jim smiled. “Well, fair enough, I guess.” He paused, scratching his head. “I don’t know why not. Maybe I haven’t found what I’m looking for yet. Maybe I already have and she’s a starship.” He glanced over at Spock. “Maybe I’m just as bad as you and don’t understand the first thing about it.”

     Spock inclined his head, and shivered slightly as the sun vanished briefly behind a cloud. He smoothly turned and headed back over to the neat pile of folded clothes a few yards away and proceeded to get dressed. Jim surreptitiously watched him out of the corner of his eye, jumping as his comm unit unexpectedly beeped.

     “Kirk here.”

     “Hi, Jim. Just wanted to let you know that, uh, an emergency came up and I’ve, uh, got to go back topside for a couple days to see that it’s all sorted out.”

     Jim narrowed his eyes. “What kind of emergency, Bones?”

     There was a loaded silence and then the doctor’s voice hissed, “What the hell kind do you think?”

     Jim turned his back to where Spock was pulling on his shirt and hopped off the rock, pacing a few feet away. “For fuck’s sake, Bones, it’s been, what, twenty-four hours? Don’t you have any fucking shame?”

     “Whatever, Jim. Enjoying your hike?”

     “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

     There was an exaggerated sigh and when McCoy’s voice came back over the line it was measurably calmer. “Jim, never mind. Look, as I said, I wanted to let you know that I’ll probably be gone when you get back. You’ve got Spock there to keep you company, and I’ll be back in a few days.”

     “You said a couple days.”

     “Right. Have fun. McCoy out.”

     Jim glared at the now-silent unit. A noise from behind him made him swing around, flipping the unit closed. He swallowed, seeing the tension around Spock’s eyes. “Um, Bones said he had to get back to the ship. Said he’ll be back in a couple days.”

     The Vulcan didn’t blink. “Indeed.”

     “Yeah.” Jim slipped the unit back into his pocket and swung his arms nervously, unable to read his first officer’s lack of expression. “So, looks like it’ll just be us for a while.”

     The impassive countenance broke, just slightly, and a corner of Spock’s mouth turned up before he glanced towards the trail, clasping his hands behind his back. “Shall we return?”

     Jim stared at him for a moment and slowly nodded, matching his friend’s almost-smile with one of his own. “Sounds great.”

 

 


	2. Curiosity, And A Whisper Of Inevitability

Chapter Two: Curiosity, And A Whisper Of Inevitability

 

 

     That evening, Jim sat in one of the large chairs near the fireplace, watching the flames dance and sipping a glass of whiskey. Bones had indeed been gone when they had arrived back at the cabin, leaving only his secret stash of alcohol, perhaps as an apology.

     Spock was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the fire, back straight, eyes closed, hands resting on his knees, meditating. Jim’s eyes were continuously drawn back to his friend’s form. He was conscious of his own sense of restrained and repressed yearning and he was feeling uneasy again, finding it difficult to categorize his feelings. A defining friendship with someone was sacred ground, untouched, to him. Sexual relationships, however, had been covered many times already, under good circumstances and bad.

     Jim sipped his drink, watching the light of the fire reflect off his friend’s black hair, seeing the shadows walk across his face, and creep along the simple white tunic he wore. As his eyes slid to Spock’s hands, he considered what they had talked about earlier, about love, and his half-joking comment that perhaps he himself didn’t understand it either. What it was to love, or to be in love, and where the line was drawn.

     He didn’t know how long he sat there, but eventually he saw Spock’s eyes open, his hands flex, and the Vulcan rose in a smooth, graceful motion to stand in front of the fire briefly before turning to his captain. “May I join you in a drink, Jim?”

     Jim looked up and smiled, forcing his troubled musings into the background. “Sure. Go ahead and sit down, I’ll get it.” He stood quickly, not allowing Spock time to argue, and walked into the kitchen. When he returned, two glasses in his hands, he saw his friend seated on the couch. Without thinking, Jim walked over and sat next to him, handing one of the glasses to him almost absently. Spock turned his head to look at Jim, who sipped his whiskey carefully, feeling distinctly buzzed, if not drunk already.

     “Jim. I would like to thank you for your invitation to stay here.”

     Jim smiled, meeting his friend’s brown eyes. “I should be thanking you. If you weren’t here, I’d be all by myself right now.”

     Spock raised an eyebrow. “I do not believe the Doctor would have departed had I not arrived.” Jim scoffed, but Spock raised his chin, now looking into the fire. “He is with Nyota.”

     The captain’s attempt at lightness fell, and he winced. “I’d hoped you wouldn’t figure that out.”

    “We are no longer involved. I wish her happiness.”

     Jim’s pleasant mood was steadily dissipating. “That’s noble, but I’m calling bullshit.” He leaned forward, taking another sip of his drink. “You’re allowed to be angry, you know. It’s just me.”

     Spock took a tentative sip of his own drink, raised his eyebrows, and then placed his glass carefully on the table in front of him. “I am not experiencing anger at this time.”

     Jim grunted. “Well, you’re a better man than me. Hell, I’m pretty fucking angry and it’s not even my business.”

     Spock’s eyes were intense. “Why are you angry, Jim?”

     Jim swallowed, feeling the whiskey burn a trail down his throat, sensing the warmth of his friend’s body so close to his side. “She’s crazy, for not wanting you. Who wouldn’t want you?”

     Spock took a breath. “I was betrothed when I was seven years old. My prospective bondmate petitioned successfully to have our preliminary link dissolved when I left Vulcan.”

     Jim’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, but... .”

     “I have always been considered either too human, or too Vulcan. I have failed my prospective partner either way. The fault lies with me.”

     “Bullshit!” Jim slammed his almost-empty glass down on the coffee table. “Bullshit.” His voice softened, and he stared at his hands, which were shaking. He could feel Spock’s eyes on him, and he glanced away.

     “Jim, may I touch you?”

     The question came out of nowhere, and Jim was too startled to protest. He watched as Spock raised one of his own hands, two fingers extended, and brushed the inside of the captain’s wrist, delicately moving upwards along his inner forearm and back down, moving over the human’s hand to touch just the tips of Jim’s index and middle fingers. The gentle touch was electric, and set Jim’s skin tingling in its wake. It was also profoundly calming, and the captain’s breath caught as he stared at the lingering contact.

     “What was that?”

     Spock removed his fingers, and Jim reacted, impulsively reaching out and clasping their hands together. “Spock, what was that?”

     Spock stared at him, an unreadable emotion lingering in his eyes, a hint of pale green over his cheekbones, and he pulled his hand away. “I lowered my shields, and the sensation was a consequence of our high degree of mental compatibility.” His voice was slightly unsteady.

     Jim had felt a strange chill at the cessation of contact, and gazed into dark eyes, holding his hand out insistently. “Touch me.”

     Spock hesitated, and then reached forward, brushing his fingers over Jim’s. The novel sensation was back, and undeniable. Jim saw Spock swallow, and then looked back down at their hands. “Can you feel what I feel?” he asked absently.

     “I can sense your emotions and surface thoughts, yes.” Spock pulled his hand away again, lowering his eyes.

     Jim watched him for a moment, feeling the turmoil that had gripped his own mind suddenly gone. A log broke in the fire, sending out a cascade of sparks, drawing Jim’s attention. When he looked back, Spock’s gaze was fastened on him. He tried a smile. “Mentally compatible, huh? Shouldn’t you be insulted?”

     Spock raised an eyebrow. “Certainly not, Jim. Vulcans do not take insult.”

     The captain chuckled. “Yeah, I guess not.” He furrowed his brow. “Did that happen with Nyota?”

     The Vulcan looked away. “No.”

     Jim grunted and leaned back against the cushions, eyeing his friend. “Does it happen often?”

     Spock’s shoulders tensed. “No.”

     “Guess I’m special, then.”

     He grinned, and watched Spock closely as the Vulcan breathed in and out and then turned to fix him with a piercing look. “Yes.”

     They stared at each other and Jim’s smile slowly faded in the growing intensity. His voice was barely a whisper. “Do you want to touch me again?”

     “Yes.”

     Jim sat up straight and reached out, and felt his breathing quicken as Spock lifted his own hand. Their palms touched, and their fingers naturally entwined, and Jim gasped as the unfamiliar sensation swept along his hand and up his arm, more intense this time. He could suddenly feel the brush of thoughts that weren’t his own, emotions that belonged to another, and a strange, almost subconscious pull. It was all a blur, and he couldn’t pick out anything specific, but there was something just beyond his reach. He closed his eyes, tightening his fingers against Spock’s, concentrating. It lingered, still distant, still calling to him. A wave of frustration overcame him and he opened his eyes, feeling the warmth fade as Spock’s shields slid back into place and the touch of their hands reverted to the simplicity of skin on skin.

     “That was pretty fucking amazing,” he murmured, not wanting to let go just yet. “What was that at the end? The thing I couldn’t reach?”

     Spock slowly separated their hands, placing his on his lap. “Our minds seek each other.”

     “Best command team in the Fleet, huh?” Jim gave a nervous laugh.

     Spock blinked and turned his head to look at the fire. “You are my friend.”

     “I’ll say.” Jim’s grin returned, and he playfully slapped the Vulcan’s shoulder.

 

 

 

     Jim fell asleep thinking of that elusive feeling he had sensed when they had touched. It had held that same comforting fulfillment he felt in Spock’s presence, embodying warmth, and belonging. The next morning, he woke up determined to explore it further. Something inside of him longed to feel it again, to find out what would happen if he reached out and touched it.

     He quickly showered and dressed and headed into the kitchen, where Spock was seated at the small table with a mug of tea in front of him, scrolling through his PADD. The smell of coffee was a surprise, and he flashed a grin at his friend as he poured himself a generous cupful, carrying it over to sit across from the Vulcan.

     “I prepared oatmeal, if you are hungry, Jim.”

     The captain shook his head. “I’m not hungry. I want to touch your hand again.”

     The Vulcan looked up sharply, the faintest line between his brows. “I beg your pardon?”

     “You heard me. I want to figure out what that thing was, between us. It’s been driving me crazy.”

     Spock placed his PADD carefully on the table and straightened in his seat, his dark eyes sweeping across Jim’s face as if searching for something. “Our minds are compatible, Jim. Yours naturally seeks mine.”

     “That’s what you said. But why do they seek each other? What does compatible mean? And why didn’t you tell me this before?”

     Spock took a breath. “It was my reaction to your death that prompted me to re-examine my response to you. The realization of our friendship... ,” He shifted slightly in his seat, an uncharacteristic movement that made Jim peer at him closely. “Our _katra_ find solace in each other; we are _t’hy’la_.”

     The captain raised his eyebrows. “What?”

     “Humans refer to the _katra_ as the soul, but for a Vulcan it is a more definable entity. It is the embodiment of understanding, personality, and knowledge; it is the intangible essence of a person. And in certain very rare occurrences, the _katra_ of two separate people resonate in such a way that each is drawn inevitably to the other.”

     “Um.” Jim realized his mouth was hanging open. “And why didn’t you say anything before now?”

     “I did not know. I recognized a connection between us, but it was Nyota’s reaction combined with your words two nights ago that prompted me to consider this definition. And when I touched you last night, I became certain.”

     “Wait, wait.” Jim pushed his mug to the side and put both of his hands flat on the table. “What does Nyota’s reaction have to do with this?”

     Spock blinked. “In our meld, I believe she sensed my emotional response to you.”

     Jim was staring. “You mean she saw that you loved me more than her? Are you serious?”

     Spock tilted his head, a hint of confusion in his eyes. “I do not understand.”

     “Spock... .” Jim rubbed his forehead with one hand. “What exactly do you mean by your emotional response to me?”

     “That would be impossible to convey without a meld.”

     Jim exhaled sharply, sitting back in his seat, chewing his lip. “So what happens if we’re...what you say we are?”

     Spock gazed at him. “We may continue as we have been.”

     The captain looked away, feeling suddenly light-headed and anxious. He finally glanced back at his first officer, who was still watching him, his features impassive, but with almost hopeful warmth in his eyes. “Okay. Uh, is there anything else you want to tell me?”

     Spock took a small sip of his tea. “Only that I would welcome your touch, Jim, should you choose to offer it.”

     Jim’s eyes widened, and he involuntarily moved his hands to his lap. “I think...maybe we should get going, if you want to hike today.” He inwardly cursed himself for a coward, but was having trouble processing what he just heard. And more than a little scared of what Nyota would say when he saw her again. But then again, she had sent Spock to him. That thought made him even more nervous, and he shot out of his seat, “I’m going to grab my stuff.” He bolted for his room, conscious of his friend’s dark eyes following him.

 

 


	3. A Damn Awkward Way To Get Answers

Chapter Three: A Damn Awkward Way To Get Answers

 

 

     They had followed a different route today: a long, hard hike upriver to a waterfall, and since their talk earlier, they had said few words to each other. Jim was conflicted, well aware that his own understanding of what Spock had described was coming from a thoroughly human perspective. His initial fear had slowly dissipated, but he still felt slightly out-of-control; felt that the strong friendship he cherished and relied upon was changing, and in a new, unexpectedly intimate way that was leaving him feeling vulnerable. He was confused, he wanted that contact again, that strange new closeness that he had experienced the night before, but he couldn’t let himself ask for it again, not without a better idea of what their connection really meant. And he felt remorseful, thinking of Nyota’s reaction, wondering what she had seen in the meld and her motivations for sending Spock to the very person who, however unwittingly, was responsible for the end of their relationship.

     And so he found himself shifting on his feet awkwardly as they stood in front of the waterfall, trying to appear casual as he told his friend that he wanted to check out some purported cave art a bit further along the trail. Spock had simply nodded and murmured something about attempting meditation, and Jim had scooted away, walking for several minutes before sitting down on a large fallen log and flipping open his comm unit.

     After a few seconds, Bones’ slightly gruff voice came over the line. “What’s up, Jim?”

     Jim cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Is Nyota there?”

     There was a few beats of heavy silence, and then McCoy’s voice came back, sounding gentler. “Do you want to talk to her?”

     “Yeah, if she doesn’t mind. It’s personal.”

     “No shit.” Bones sighed. “I’ll get her.”

     Jim swallowed nervously as another silence stretched over the line, and straightened involuntarily as he heard Nyota’s voice. “Hi, Jim.” She didn’t sound angry.

     Jim self-consciously scratched his head. “Nyota, I need to ask you something, as a friend. I need to understand what’s going on with Spock. I’m sorry; I know this is inappropriate and... ,” he moved his hand to cover his eyes, “really awkward.”

     There was a pause, and he heard her take a deep breath. “Have you talked to him? About why he’s there?”

     “He wouldn’t tell me much. Something about not understanding emotional responses and that you were upset. I’m really confused.”

     There was another, longer, silence, and then her voice came back, quieter. “Jim, you’re going to have to bear with me. It’s hard to talk about this, but I think you deserve to know, and he’s not the best at clear and concise explanations when it comes to emotions and relationships and all that.”

     Jim grunted an acknowledgment, and she snorted delicately. “Of course, you know that.” Another deep breath. “Okay, here it is. I think I’ve known for a while that we weren’t working out. Especially since you died; but even before that, he’s all about you. At first he was curious, and then confused, and now completely devoted. And when we finally melded, I figured out why.”

     “Nyota... .”

     “No, it’s okay. I know this isn’t your fault. The Vulcans say, _kaiidth_. What is, is. Sounds pretty simple, but humans tend to have problems with it.” She sighed. “I asked for the meld for a couple reasons. First, I wanted to know if I was comfortable with that kind of mental intimacy, and second, I wanted to be sure how he regarded me. And I saw in his mind that he loved me, and that he wanted to consider bonding with me, as his wife, which is what I needed to know. But then I saw something else. I saw what he felt for you, and it was like an entirely different thing.”

     She gave a dry laugh. “Which is funny because it was different, in his mind. I mean, he saw me as a prospective spouse, and you as his friend. And those things were completely separate to him, so he didn’t understand when I became upset.”

     “He sees me as a friend? It sounds like more.”

     “You don’t understand, Jim. Vulcans don’t have friends; there’s no casual definition. You called him friend, and he had told me what his counterpart said regarding the two of you, so that’s how he categorized what you are to him. But, I could see that he didn’t understand how to handle his strong emotions for you. I think he tried repressing everything until you died, and then, after you came back, he put it all into this amorphous definition of ‘friend’.”

     “But, if he thinks of me as a friend, why... ?” His voice trailed off.

     “Why was I so angry?” She made a sharp noise. “He didn’t know how else to categorize what he feels for you, but it’s a hell of a thing, Jim. And the instant I saw it I knew it was over between us. For me, I didn’t want to always come in second. And a mental bond with him would have just made it worse because then I would always sense what you are to him, and what I’m not. A Vulcan would probably accept it, but I’m not a Vulcan, and I don’t want to share.”

     “He called me his _t’hy’la_.”

     Now, the silence stretched, and Jim furrowed his brow, bringing the comm unit closer to his mouth. “Nyota?”

     “I’m here.” He heard something that sounded like a sniff and he felt his face flush. But her voice, when she finally spoke, was steady. “That explains a lot, actually.” He heard her mutter something to herself in the background and then she sighed. “Jim, did he tell you what _t’hy’la_ means?”

     “He said our souls seek each other. I thought maybe it was a translation problem or something. It seems a little strange for a Vulcan.”

     “It’s an ancient concept. It’s like soulmate, for us, but it’s real. It’s not something you choose, it just happens. And it’s really, really rare. I’m not surprised he hadn’t figured it out before.”

     “He said he didn’t know until he touched me.”

     She made a small noise, and Jim quickly spoke, “Not like that. Just my hand.”

     He could almost see her shaking her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong. _T’hy’la_ , if I remember, is a fundamental connection that can lead to its own unique bond. It can co-exist with a spouse; meaning it’s not exclusive, necessarily, unless two people decide they want to make it so.”

     “Then, why didn’t you... ?”

     “Jim, like I said, I don’t want to always come in second. I already thought something was off, in the way I couldn’t read him very well. Not like you could. I was tired of pushing, and of how insecure it made me feel. And we never, well, we never completely, uh... .” She hesitated and cleared her throat. “Well, let’s just say he always treated me with the utmost respect.”

     Jim’s eyebrows shot up, but he kept his mouth shut.

     She let out an exaggerated exhale. “Anyway, all I can say is that right now I’m still angry at myself, but not angry with you, or with him. I should have known when I heard about his counterpart describing a 'defining friendship'. And I should have really known when he lost control after you died. And even now, how he seems to belong at your side.”

     Her voice became thoughtful. “If anything, I do feel jealous. But, you won’t understand unless you ask him to meld with you. He can’t explain it, and I still don’t think he really understands it, but at least now he has the correct definition for it, from what you say.”

     Jim swallowed. “What do I do now?”

     “Talk to him. Figure it out.” He heard her swallow. “Although, Jim, this is going to sound mean, but I’ve seen your full court press, and this is not something you’re going to be able to walk away from in the morning.”

     “I know.” He drew in a deep breath, feeling the nervous energy from earlier still humming along his body, but now for a different reason.

     Her voice held a low note of emotion. “I appreciate you not saying anything about Len coming up here. We’re not...well, I don’t know what we are, yet, but he helped me. We talked, a lot.” She let out a dry chuckle. “Mostly about you, actually. We’ve been through a lot, all of us, and I owe you my life, a few times over. That mess on Beta Vernae III? You’re a good friend, and an even better captain.” She paused, her voice stronger. “This was my decision, Jim. You and Spock? You’re his, and I know that he’s yours.”

     Jim stared at the unit in his hand. “I’m sorry.”

     “Yeah, I’m sorry, too. But I have to think that this will all be okay, because I can’t do anything about it and I’m not devastated. Believe it or not, I’m hopeful. And I think you should be, as well.” There was a couple seconds of silence, and he heard her softly mumble, “Good luck, Jim.” The line went dead, and the captain sat, staring into the trees, lost in his thoughts.

 

 


	4. The Cards Are On The Table

Chapter Four: The Cards Are On The Table

 

 

     Jim made the short trek back to the waterfall, his heart somewhat lighter with regard to Nyota, but with nervous anticipation making his body tense. As he rounded the bend in the trail and walked into the clearing in front of the tall, crashing falls, he saw his friend seated cross-legged on a large, flat rock next to the pool, eyes closed, back straight, hands placed carefully on his knees. The captain hesitated, glancing around the clearing, and finally let out a sigh, walking forward and pulling his boots and socks off, clambering up onto the rock himself and sitting directly in front of Spock, mirroring his first officer’s position.

     The surface of the large, flat boulder was hot in the sun, and Jim felt himself begin to sweat. He studied the Vulcan’s features, dark hair ruffling in the gentle breeze, the relaxed appearance of his hands and expression. His own hands involuntarily flexed, and he was overcome by an impulse to reach out, to touch. Narrowing his eyes, he tentatively raised his hand and let his fingers brush across the top of Spock’s, feeling the natural warmth of the Vulcan’s skin made even hotter in the sunlight. He couldn’t completely feel the sensation from before, but there was something there, and Jim curled his fingers more firmly around his friend’s hand.

     The surge of awareness was abrupt, but not unexpected, and Jim felt the anticipated electric sensation wash sharply over his hand as he saw Spock’s eyes open. Knowing what to expect this time, he was able to make out individual emotions through the contact: _surprise, relief, love._ The reality and surety of this last made him gasp, slightly, and he tightened his grip on Spock’s hand, murmuring, “What do you feel from me?”

     The Vulcan’s voice was gentle. “I sense your regard for me. You are fearful for what this may mean, but you are comforted by our contact.” Dark eyes searched Jim’s. “You spoke to Nyota.”

     Jim felt a strong, defensive impulse to let go, but he fought it, and instead moved his fingers deliberately to interlace with Spock’s. “I’m afraid, of this. I’m afraid of the definition of friend being blurred into something unfamiliar.”

     “I do not understand.”

     Jim shook his head, breaking their eye contact, but keeping their hands together. “I don’t either, really. But I want this. And that also scares me; of how much I want this. And before last night, I didn’t even know what it was.” He stared at their contact. “I want you to meld with me.”

     He sensed a surge of joy through their tenuous connection that made his heart leap in response, and he blinked rapidly. Spock’s features had not changed, but his eyes were bright. “I would be honored to have your thoughts, Jim.”

    Jim let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding and smiled. “Want to head down, then?”

     “Yes.” Spock gently separated their hands and gracefully swung his legs over the side of the boulder, reaching for his boots. Jim did the same, the smile still on his face. His heart was pounding, though, and he felt a nervous flutter in his stomach, excitement running through his veins.

     They started down the steep trail back towards their cabin, and Jim found himself reveling in the familiar feelings of fellowship and happiness that Spock’s presence usually engendered in him. He found himself sneaking small glances to his side, taking in Spock’s long, careful gait and the way the Vulcan raised his head to watch his surroundings with avid curiosity. Jim remembered Nyota’s words about a potential bond forming: _it’s not exclusive, necessarily, unless two people decide they want to make it so_. With this undeniable, and, now, uncontested connection between them, Jim found himself considering what it would mean to have such a bond, to make permanent his claim to his friend’s mind and attention. He remembered the sense of love flowing from Spock’s mind: pure, unconditional, and definitive. The indirect feeling had been incredible, and he wondered how it would feel in their anticipated meld. Wondered what it would be like to feel it always. The thought was both terrifying, and exhilarating.

     As they walked, one of Jim’s sidelong glances was caught, and Spock met his eyes. The captain grinned. “So, we’re in it now, huh?”

     “Clarify.”

     “Soulmates, Spock? It almost doesn’t make sense; we’re kind of polar opposites.”

     Spock raised an eyebrow. “You suggested reason does not apply in situations such as this.”

     Jim chuckled. “Well, maybe not for humans, but this is a Vulcan concept. I figured it would have something to do with logic.”

     Spock faced forward, regarding the trail ahead. “There are some Vulcan concepts which have no basis in logic. I believe this falls under that category.”

     “Is that why you didn’t realize what we are until now?”

     “Perhaps. Indeed, my logic is uncertain with respect to you.”

     Jim thought a moment, listening to the sound of their footfalls on the trailbed. “I’ve always been alone. At least, that’s what it felt like. My father died, and my mother spent as little time as possible with me. My brother high-tailed it out of our shitty situation as soon as he could.” He paused. “And I know we’ve talked about Tarsus.”

     Spock inclined his head, acknowledging that deep conversation they had shared a few months back, after a particularly difficult mission. Jim shook his head slightly. “Except for you, and Bones, any serious relationship I’ve ever tried to maintain has failed.” He glanced at his friend. “I don’t want to fail you.”

     “You will not.”

     Jim gave a wry smile. “You sound so sure about that.”

     Spock suddenly stopped walking, and turned to face his captain, clasping his hands behind his back. “I also understand loneliness; even more so since the loss of my planet. You, among all others, have accepted me as I am, without prejudice. You have defended me, and risked your career for me. You gave your life for me. Even if you left now and did not return, and all I knew of your mind was from our past touch, you will not have failed me. I am your friend, and always shall be yours.”

     Jim had stopped when Spock did, and stared at his first officer, unshed tears burning in his eyes. He opened his mouth, closed it, and made an abortive step forward, his hands out, only to stop and move his arms deliberately to his sides.

     Spock’s eyes were full of warmth. “You forget, Jim, that I welcome your touch.” He held out a hand, two fingers outstretched. Jim hesitated, and then reached back, folding his fingers into the unfamiliar configuration. Their fingers touched, and the anticipated sensation was back.

     Jim stared at their hands. “What does this mean?”

     Spock was also looking at where their fingers met. “It is a form of intimacy between bondmates, or between _t’hy’la_.” The corners of his mouth twitched upwards just slightly, and Jim felt the contentment streaming between them.

     “Like a kiss?” Jim realized his face was flushed, and made a lopsided smile.

     “Yes.” A hint of amusement flickered over the weak connection, and Spock removed his fingers, his lips still holding the barest of smiles, and turned to continue walking.

     Jim was left looking at his hand, still held out in front of him, and moved after his friend. “Hey! You can’t just pull that and run off.” He quickly reached Spock’s side. “Tell me more about bonding. Will we have one? A bond?”

     “That will remain at your discretion, Jim. I would be honored to hold you as my _telsu_.”

     “Are there different kinds of bonds?”

     Spock glanced over. “Yes, Jim. To my understanding, _t’hy’la_ traditionally share a bond. However, there remains the possibility of bonding to another in marriage, concurrently. And, of course, there remain familial bonds and cultural linkages, such as _k’war’ma’khon_.”

     Jim eyed him. “So it’s not necessarily exclusive, sharing your mind with me?”

     The Vulcan hesitated. “No, but I would not object to you as a potential mate, which would imply exclusivity.”

     Now it was Jim who stopped. “Wait. Spock, wait!” When his friend paused and turned to face him, Jim looked at him closely. “When you say mate, do you mean life partner, commitment, everything?”

     “Yes.”

     Jim sputtered, “But, but...we haven’t even...we don’t...are you saying you’re in love with me?”

     Spock raised an eyebrow. “I believe that we both have now identified love as a significant part of my response to you.”

     “And you’re attracted to me? Physically?”

     “Yes.”

     Jim took a step back. “But, you know my history, you know my longest romantic involvement lasted about three days. I’ve never said I’ve loved anyone before. I don’t even know if I can say it.”

     Spock gazed at him. “We are _t’hy’la_.”

     Jim grunted sharply, blinking and reaching for his water bottle, feeling suddenly defensive.

     “Jim, I do not wish to anger you. We may simply continue as we are. However, I will answer your questions honestly.”

     “No shit,” Jim muttered quietly, swallowing a mouthful of water and starting to walk down the rough trail again, choosing his steps carefully. He heard Spock follow him, and for long moments he simply concentrated on the soft sounds of their breathing.

     After a while, Jim chanced a glance over at his companion, whose expression was unreadable. “Spock, you have to know that humans take these things a lot differently. We date, we spend time together; it’s not just a mental imperative.”

     The Vulcan arched his brows. “Your choice of wording is particularly appropriate in this case, Jim. You are quite correct that taking a mate is indeed a mental imperative in my culture. However, I would point out that we have been spending significant amounts of time in each other’s company.”

     At Jim’s silence, Spock continued, “I understand if you do not wish to consider me in that respect. I am aware that your sexual proclivities tend towards females.”

     The captain felt his face go scarlet. “Um, that’s not necessarily true.”

     Spock fixed him with an inquiring stare. “Which part of my previous statement are you referring to?”

     Jim swallowed, and refused to meet Spock’s eyes. “Both.” At the Vulcan’s lack of reaction, the human sighed and finally raised blue eyes to meet brown, speaking softly enough for only Vulcan ears to hear. “Both.”

     Spock kept watching him, a hint of curiosity now evident in his eyes, and Jim awkwardly crossed his arms in front of him, breaking their eye contact. “But what about you?”

     Spock raised his chin, his easy stride not breaking. “Expressions of sexual intimacy in general, and intercourse in particular, can be difficult without simultaneous mental stimulation through a bonding link. My experience in this area is limited, as I did not engage in such activities with my betrothed before she dissolved our link, and I have yet to enter into such a link with anyone else.”

     Jim pressed his lips together, feeling his breathing quicken, his thoughts swirling in his head. He had not exaggerated his previous reluctance to enter into any significant romantic relationship, but neither had he been misleading about wanting his friend in that way. His mind kept returning to the love he had sensed in the Vulcan’s mind, to the feelings of comfort that existed in his presence, to the raw excitement Jim couldn’t help but feel at the idea of touching the Vulcan’s thoughts the way he had touched his hand. Now unburdened by doubt and mindful of what he had in front of him, Jim let his hidden desires weave their way into his consciousness, thinking of what it might be like to press their bodies together, to feel Spock’s mouth on his, or his hands gripping Jim’s hips. He remembered Nyota’s warning about the seriousness of the situation and felt a twinge of anxiety at the thought of forever, countered by a surge of surprising possessiveness as he considered anything less.

 

 

Chapter End Notes:

Vulcan translations from VLD

 

 


	5. Falling Into You

Chapter Five: Falling Into You

 

 

     Jim slumped on the couch, legs sprawled out in front of him, dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt, his hair still damp, listening to the water running as his friend took his own shower. They had returned from the hike and had eaten a quick lunch before Jim had insisted on washing off the sweat and dirt from the trail. He was pretty sure that the Vulcan wasn’t nearly as filthy as Jim, but the human appreciated the chance to sit by himself and get his head in order.

     The nervous anticipation was back, and Jim felt jumpy and excited. He thought back to that intense mental joining in the cave on Delta Vega. It had been a whirlwind of directed thoughts and images, with an underlying rush of devastating emotions. He had felt mostly powerless, ignorant to what was happening, at the mercy of superior mental discipline. Instinctively, he knew that most of what was likely to occur with this meld would be different, but he wondered how much would be the same. He had seen Spock mentally wrest information out of someone before, had even seen him influence a guard into unlocking their cell from twenty feet away. A touch of fear began to creep into his thoughts, and he quickly damped it down, trust and curiosity swelling up to take its place.

     Restless, he hopped up from the couch and began to pace in front of the darkened fireplace, his bare feet cold on the hardwood floor. The afternoon light was streaming in through the windows, and the atmosphere outside was lazy. He thought of what he would have been doing if Spock hadn’t shown up, probably drinking and feeling bad for himself and missing his first officer’s company. Jim chuckled softly, contemplating his own lack of understanding of relationships and emotional responses. They did make quite a pair.

     “Jim.” At the sound of the Vulcan’s quiet voice, Jim spun around. Spock had changed into a black tunic and the same pair of incongruous jeans he had shown up in. Jim’s gaze flicked over his friend’s form, noting with some amusement that he, also, was barefoot, thinking that it made him appear more human.

     “So, let’s do it.” Jim stepped back over to flop on the couch, watching the Vulcan expectantly.

     Spock stepped lightly over and sat down next to Jim, his eyes intense. “Are you certain that you wish for this? In my culture, a meld can be considered more intimate than physical sharing.”

     Jim snorted delicately. “I’m sure that it is.” He met Spock’s eyes directly. “I want to understand what we are to each other, what you feel for me. And I want you to see me, too. All of me.”

     Spock’s right hand came up and Jim raised his chin to meet it, but instead of fastening onto his face, the Vulcan’s fingers softly caressed Jim’s skin, brushing across his meld points, leaving a trail of tingling warmth in their wake. Jim’s lips parted and he exhaled gently, feeling the lingering tension and barely hidden fear from before vanish with the unexpectedly tender touch. He closed his eyes, his body feeling almost boneless, and he dimly heard Spock’s voice murmur Vulcan words, his fingers finally settling.

_It was like falling from a high cliff, but with no fear. He was instantly surrounded by depthless warmth, in a stronghold of careful organization, in a vast library. His normal senses weren’t working, and he could feel that same awesome mental power as before, but this time it was infinitely familiar and welcoming._

_He saw lights around him, felt comfort in those places, recognized his friend’s love for his mother, for Nyota, each unique and shining differently. And then he felt a pull, leading him towards an even brighter place._

_And now, Jim gained confidence, because this place felt like home. He recognized the sense of it from when he had touched Spock’s hand, but this time it was within reach, and it was indescribably beautiful. Approaching it, he felt free, unburdened by sarcasm or bravado or any pretense. He felt safe, like he couldn’t be anything other than himself. He felt cherished. He would never be alone. And he saw, reaching out to surround him, his_ t’hy’la _’s love and joy. And he felt his own emotions singing back, heedless of fear or self-imposed limitations, suddenly clear, suddenly undeniable. He let his own love flow out to meet the other, and where they touched it was light._

_Emboldened and determined, he rushed forward to meet that longed for place, falling headlong into it. It was like being torn apart and put back together with additional pieces that fit perfectly. It was like drowning and being reborn in a new existence, the water becoming a natural part of him. It was as if he were being consumed in fire, feeling the heat but not the burn, sensing the brilliant intensity but none of the pain. And he had never been happier... ._

 

     Reality broke over Jim’s conscious mind and he gasped for air, his cheeks wet with tears, Spock’s fingers hovering just above his skin. He stared into wide, brown eyes, which held tears of their own, and sensed their connection still in his mind, and within it he felt his friend’s own happiness, his love, his amazement.

     “Was that... ?” Jim’s voice broke, and he tried again, “Did we... ?” He realized he didn’t even know what to ask.

     Spock blinked and took a shaky breath, his hand slowly falling away from Jim’s face. “We bonded. I...I could not prevent it.”

     Jim swallowed. “I don’t think I would’ve wanted you to prevent it.” His eyes became unfocused as he focused on the new sensations. He could feel the connection in his mind changing somehow, intensifying, the heat from the meld finding its way into his conscious senses. In front of him, Spock had a sudden desperate look on his face, and his hands were fists in his lap. Jim felt his own breathing quicken, felt himself harden, abruptly realizing what that heat meant just as powerful desire swept over him, and he let out an involuntary gasp.

     “Spock.” Jim was panting. “What kind of a bond is it?”

     The Vulcan shook his head mutely, his eyes huge. Jim’s body was alive with arousal; he could feel his cock straining inside his pants. “Spock, did we just get fucking mar... ?” His words were muffled as his friend’s mouth crashed onto his own, a hard Vulcan body pressing his into the couch. The kiss was an aggressive match of lips and tongues, and Jim couldn’t help the sounds he was making, or the way his hips ground up into Spock’s. The Vulcan’s hands moved relentlessly under Jim’s shirt, and the human moaned at the touch of hot skin. The new bond was pulsing in his head, urging him into a frenzy of desire, and he pulled at the Vulcan’s own shirt in a wrench of movement that sent them both tumbling onto the floor, narrowly missing the coffee table.

     The shock of the cold, bare wood sent Jim back into himself for a split second, and he grabbed at Spock’s waist. “I want you. I want...oh, gods...in my room...we need...fuck.” He suddenly couldn’t remember how to speak as the Vulcan ripped his shirt off of him in a smooth motion and pressed his mouth to the human’s neck.

     The rest of their clothes came off, and they stumbled together into Jim’s room, Jim managing to fumble in his case for a tube of lubricant before they fell naked onto the bed, their mouths meeting again. Jim rolled them so he was on top, dropping the tube next to the pillows to capture both Spock’s hands above his head, blindly entwining their fingers, sliding their palms together in rhythm with the movement of their bodies. Their mental connection was on fire, and Jim let the heady feeling carry him along with it, lifted by their shared arousal and the desperate sounds Spock was making into his mouth.

     Jim broke the kiss, licking his way down the Vulcan’s throat and biting gently against his collarbone, loosening one hand to grab for the tube again and slickening his fingers before moving his hand further down along Spock’s body.

     “I want you,” he murmured again against hot skin, feeling a mental affirmative sweep into his mind before sliding one finger in, feeling a wave of _curiosity, excitement, lust_ wash over the bond. He moved his mouth back up, traveling up the Vulcan’s jaw and up to a pointed ear, slowly adding one and then another finger, feeling Spock’s hips undulate up into his touch. Unable to wait any longer, he shifted their bodies, carefully pushing his aching cock in, almost sobbing at the intensity of the shared sensations passing through the bond. He thrust deeply, helplessly, sensing the tight slide of skin and breathing in the scent of the Vulcan’s body, feeling the hardness of his mate’s cock between them. His body shuddered under the force of his arousal, and he could feel Spock’s pleasure building in tandem with his own, thinking that this was the best that it had ever been. And then he felt fingers on his face again, his perceptions blurring into the meld, and their pleasure combined into a wave of inhuman ecstasy that made Jim scream out loud as his climax pounded through him, feeling his mate’s release as well, and he fell across his Vulcan’s body in a sweaty, sated heap, the meld breaking and his body twitching in the aftermath.

     It was several minutes before Jim could voluntarily move, or speak. He felt his spent penis slip out of Spock’s body, and gradually felt the Vulcan’s own rapid breathing slow and calm. Jim felt a chill from one of them, and shifted awkwardly, grabbing at the blankets to cover both their bodies, moving to curl against Spock’s side. The bond was even clearer in Jim’s mind, and now held gentle, affectionate warmth.

     Finally summoning enough energy to do more than simply lay there, Jim slowly propped himself up onto one elbow, staring down at his debauched friend. Spock’s hair was thoroughly mussed, his eyes shut, green color high on his cheekbones, his lips swollen. “Hey.” Jim poked at his Vulcan’s shoulder. He sensed a pulse of anxiety through their mental connection and dark eyes opened to watch him rather warily.

     “Jim.”

     The captain smirked. “Well, I’m glad you remember my name. Anything else you’d like to add?”

     “I apologize.”

     “For what?”

     A faint line appeared between Spock’s eyebrows. “I do not know.”

     Jim chuckled, lying back against his pillow. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that was as much my fault as yours. But what I need to know is exactly what happened. In the meld, I mean. I can figure out everything else.”

     The Vulcan swallowed. “I believe we initiated a mating bond.”

     Jim stared at the ceiling. “The exclusive kind.”

     “Yes.” Spock turned his head to watch Jim’s profile. “Our connection is strong. I did not realize that such a deep bond could form spontaneously, even between _t’hy’la_ , or I would not have allowed the meld.”

     “It’s because I love you.” Jim’s voice was barely a murmur.

     “Jim?”

     “I felt it. I reached for it, wanted it to happen. I wanted you, and I loved you, and I suddenly couldn’t hide it anymore in the meld. And then I felt the bond form.” He turned his head to look into brown eyes. “What does this mean for us?”

     “It means that you are mine and I am yours. Our minds are connected.”

     Jim nodded. “Can you read my thoughts?”

     “I can sense your emotions, and, perhaps strong thoughts or impressions that you project directly to me. I can instruct you on shielding.”

     “That was pretty unbelievable sex.”

     “I...agree.”

     Jim laughed out loud, and he sensed a sudden pulse of discomfort from his new mate. He reached out, feeling lingering damp stickiness on both their bodies, and sat up. “Let’s get back in the shower, and then change the sheets. Good thing this place has a washer unit.”

     “Indeed.” Spock rather gingerly swung his legs out of bed and stood up, and Jim stared at him, openly appreciating his body. His thought was chased by another thrill of desire, and he saw the Vulcan’s breathing quicken.

     Jim felt his own cock impossibly start to harden again and clutched the blanket, feeling distinctly out of control. “Okay. Please tell me this is just a side-effect of getting bonded, or we’re going to be in deep shit when we get back to work.”

     Spock raised his eyes, already almost black with arousal. “I believe so. It is customary for newly mated couples to retire for... _t’hy’la_.” His explanation was cut short by his mate falling to his knees in front of him and taking his erect penis in a cool, human mouth.

     Jim was thoroughly enjoying himself. He applied his mouth and hands eagerly to his new bondmate, tasting human sweat and the sweet taste of Vulcan semen, feeling Spock’s growing pleasure through the bond almost as if it were his own. He wondered at the sensations passing between them, and understood now what Spock meant by ‘simultaneous mental stimulation’. Knowing exactly how much he was pleasuring his partner lent him even more confidence, and he also was able to share in the reward. As Spock gasped and gently thrust his hips forward, his release pulsing into Jim’s mouth, the human had to concentrate on not coming himself. He swallowed, smiling up at his mate’s slightly confused expression.

     “Jim, did you not want... ?” Spock’s voice trailed off as he sensed Jim’s intentions.

     The human stood up. “I want you.” The possessive edge to his voice was tempered by a gentle touch along the Vulcan’s arm. “I want to feel you against me.”

     Jim pulled his mate back down onto the bed, moving so he was on his side. He closed his eyes, feeling Spock’s hand encircle his impossibly straining organ. His mate’s mouth gently brushed his lips, encouraging them to part, and Jim’s whole world was suddenly entirely composed of the warm pleasure produced from his mate’s mouth and hand. He could feel the Vulcan’s mind reaching for his along their bond, could sense how Spock’s grip gentled, or firmed according to the cadence of Jim’s pleasure. And when he came, he gasped into his mate’s mouth, his hips thrusting involuntarily, feeling Spock smile against his lips.

     They fell asleep wrapped around each other, heedless of the added wetness on the bedclothes and on their bodies, until Jim awoke to the darkness of the room, his bondmate shivering in his arms. Fighting through exhaustion, Jim prodded his Vulcan, encouraging him out of bed and finally under the hot water shower. He thought about stripping the bed, deciding that they could simply move over to Spock’s room, and headed into the bathroom himself.

     Despite the size of the cabin, the shower was generous, and Jim stepped in, smiling as he took in his Vulcan standing under the steaming spray, his arms held loosely at his sides. As Jim slid closer, dark eyes opened, and a dangerous expression appeared on Spock’s face, the now-familiar uncontrolled pulse over the bond sending a wave of adrenaline through the human.

     Jim licked his lips, reaching for the soap, and for his composure. “You okay?”

     “Yes.”

     Jim grunted, scrubbing himself down with efficient motions. “Don’t look at me like that when you’re naked. I’ll end up fucking you again.”

     “Or I you, _t’hy’la_.”

     “Shit.” Jim suddenly found himself crowded up against the cold wall of the shower, a hot, lean body pressed against him, made slick by the soap, his wrists gripped in firm but gentle hands, and his mouth taken decisively by his mate’s.

     Jim’s cock was apparently up to performing miracles, because it was responding yet again to the stimulation provided by the pounding need in their shared mental space, the pressure of hot skin and the touch of Spock’s own organ. The Vulcan’s mouth was relentless, and Jim surged forward, feeling his mate on the verge of control and wanting to push him even further. Remembering the finger kiss from earlier, he twisted his right arm and tugged. Spock let go of his wrist without releasing his mouth and Jim blindly grabbed for the Vulcan’s hand, pulling away from the kiss and bringing Spock’s hand to his own mouth. Slowly, his eyes never leaving Spock’s, he brought his mate’s first two fingers into his mouth and sucked loudly. A noise escaped the Vulcan’s throat and Jim felt the iron grip on his other wrist tighten to the point of pain as he was tugged toward the door, barely reaching out to shut off the water before being unceremoniously pulled into his bedroom and thrown onto his stomach on the bed.

     Barely an instant later, a hard body was on top of him and his legs were coaxed apart, a single, slicked finger entering him. The bond was pulsing again with heat, and Jim gave himself up to the slurry of sensations and the strong desire coming from his mate as two and then three fingers penetrated him. Spock apparently learned fast, and he finally pressed his length into Jim’s entrance slowly, but insistently, the stretch and burn fading into the background intensity of the bond in the human’s mind.

     Jim arched back into the thrusts, slow at first, and then stronger, angling to hit his prostate again and again. His muscles were shaking with exhaustion, and the blissful, shared sensations blew wide as Spock took his mind as well as his body. He hadn’t even touched his own hardened cock, pressed beneath him against the sheets, but was still unrelentingly climbing towards yet another forceful climax, drawn along in the wake of his mate’s pleasure. As their shared orgasm washed over him, he managed a weak cry before falling into welcoming darkness.

 

 

 

     The captain blinked awake, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling bathed in the pale rays of daybreak. He was still tired, his body aching in interesting ways and his head feeling strange. Where he had felt the heat in his mind before was now calm. He shifted his head, now recognizing Spock’s room in the cabin. Moving the blankets that covered him, he realized that he was dressed in a clean t-shirt and sweatpants and didn’t feel overly sticky. His stomach growled loudly, and he remembered they had skipped dinner. He was also incredibly thirsty, and slowly sat up, wincing as his muscles adjusted.

     He shook his head, unable to wipe the grin off his face. It had been the best sex of his life as well as the most intimate experience of his life. He stood up carefully and shuffled into the bathroom, thinking that he should probably stop smiling like he’d just discovered orgasm for the first time, and then decided that it didn’t matter.

     He emptied his bladder and brushed his teeth, conscious of the gentle feeling of the bond in his head, and headed out the main area of the cabin. Spock was seated on the floor in front of the couch, the coffee table pushed aside, cross-legged, meditating. He had put on the jeans that had been discarded with such haste the day before, as well as a familiar-looking blue t-shirt. Jim felt a pulse of satisfied possessiveness, enjoying that his mate was wearing his clothes. He must have projected, because he suddenly felt a sharp awareness, like a gleam of light within his head, and the bond burst open. It was stronger than the day before; he could sense more, and all clearer. His already shaky legs protested, and he managed to sink to the floor to sit next to Spock in a more-or-less dignified manner, despite the onslaught of vertigo.

     “ _T’hy’la_.” Brown eyes studied him, and he couldn’t decide whether he was seeing or sensing the concern in their depths.

     “Hey, baby.”

     “You are not well.”

     Jim pasted a smile on his face, willing the dizziness away. “It’s not that bad. I think I just need some water.”

     A cascade of muted emotions flew across at him before disappearing, _guilt, anxiety, concern, love, desire_ , and his bondmate stood up abruptly. “Remain here.”

     Jim decided to do as he was told as Spock headed towards the kitchen, and wondered at the new dynamism he was able to see in his mate, with the bond in place. Despite Spock’s impassive visage, Jim could sense what was being repressed and controlled below the surface.

     Shortly, his mate re-appeared, carrying a full glass of water and a sandwich of some kind. Spock sat down next to Jim and handed him the water. “Perhaps I should shield the bond temporarily, Jim. I can feel your difficulty.”

     Jim took two large gulps of the cool liquid before stopping, his head swimming. “Yeah, uh, maybe just for a bit.”

     At first he felt nothing, and then there was a sharp pain, like a knife through his brain, and he cried out, dropping the glass and clutching at his temples. He was cold, ice cold, and his head was being ripped open and... .

     He was suddenly wrapped in Spock’s arms, lying facing him on the couch, his face pressed into his neck, the pain gone as quickly as it had appeared. The Vulcan was breathing hard, and Jim could feel his distress as clear as if it were his own. Surprisingly, the dizziness had faded now that they were touching.

     “Don’t do that again,” he whispered, his voice muffled against Spock’s skin. He tightened his own arms around his bondmate. “I don’t care about the food. I want to feel you. Let’s go back to bed.”

     They made it back into Spock’s bedroom without losing contact, and Jim didn’t hesitate to strip himself of his clothes, prompting Spock to do the same. He slid under the blankets and wrapped his body around his mate’s back, sighing as the dizziness completely vanished and the open feeling of the bond ceased to be so disconcerting.

     “I am sorry, Jim. I should not have left you. I required meditation in order to bring my...more carnal inclinations under control.”

     Jim grunted, enjoying the feel of Spock’s higher body temperature against his sore muscles. “How’d that go?” He could feel the desire building again, slowly, with the touch of their bodies against each other.

     “It was insufficient. But I will not touch you further; I sense your discomfort.”

     Jim hummed, brushing his lips through Spock’s dark hair, stroking a hand across his mate’s defined chest and stomach. “Can I touch you, then?”

     His mate shifted against him. “Jim, please do not. This is still unfamiliar to me. Your body and your mind are...I need...I am fearful of losing control.” There was a pleading tone to Spock’s voice and through the bond that sobered Jim sharply.

     “Hey, it’s okay. I’m stopping.” He brought his hand outside the blankets, around Spock’s waist. With the dramatic cessation of the unpleasant feelings associated with the bond, he was tired enough again for sleep, and the heat from his bedmate was making his eyes droop. “I’m glad we did it, you know,” he murmured. “Bonded.” He nosed into his mate’s hair, feeling the rapid alien heartbeat in his side, and closed his eyes. “I’m happy you’re mine.”

     “ _T’hy’la_.” Spock’s voice was barely a whisper, and he moved his hand to Jim’s, entwining their fingers. “ _T’nash-veh_.”

 

 

 

     The captain awoke again, the light from the windows shifting in the soft shades of early afternoon. He turned his head to look at Spock, whose face was buried in the pillow. Jim’s eyes traveled along the Vulcan’s body, stretched out long and lean on the bed next to him. The primal possessive feeling was back, accompanied by a pulse of heat across the bond, and Jim heard his mate mumble something into the pillow.

     “What?” Jim smiled, still not willing to move too much himself.

     Spock lifted his head from the pillow. “I believe I have a better understanding of how you continue to find yourself in dangerous situations, _t’hy’la_.”

     Jim chuckled softly, and shifted, the chuckle turning into a grunt as he became aware of his empty stomach, and the renewed ache in his muscles. “Ugh. Okay. I think I have to get up. I’m fucking starving.” He rolled onto his side and peered into dark eyes as Spock turned to face him. “Do you think we can be apart for a bit, now?”

     Spock’s eyes became slightly unfocused, and Jim felt something touch along their bond. “I do not know.”

     Jim took a breath and rolled back, swinging his legs out of bed. He pushed himself up and stood, and then walked unsteadily to the bathroom. His head felt fairly normal, and he paused to drink a couple cups of water at the sink before stepping into the shower, wanting to feel the hot water over his body. He washed himself quickly, and wrapped himself in a towel, drinking another cup of water and brushing his teeth before walking back out into his own bedroom. To his surprise, the bed was made.

     “Jim.” He turned to face his bondmate, who was wearing a pair of sweatpants and nothing else, his hair in adorable disarray.

     “You did the laundry last night?”

     “We will require further use of the bedding; it was logical.” Dark eyes searched his face. “You are well?”

     Jim rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, I think so. Not too bad of a headache, no immediate need to have sex. I think I need to eat something, though.” He furrowed his brow at the way Spock’s gaze lingered on his loosely wrapped towel. “How are you?”

     The Vulcan blinked and took a step back. “It is manageable.”

     Jim stepped forward, holding out a hand to grip his mate’s bicep, his voice gentle. “Spock. Go take a shower and get dressed. I’ll make us some food.”

     “Yes, Jim.”

     Jim watched him walk into the bathroom and shut the door, and waited until he heard the water running before returning to his room and throwing on some clean clothes. He could feel his mate’s continued desire, but he could also now feel Spock’s growing control over it, and he walked into the kitchen, intent on eating something, anything.

     He had stuffed a random piece of bread into his mouth and had started the coffee when he heard the sound of footsteps on the deck outside. He had only taken a single step towards the door when it opened, and Bones walked in.

 

 


	6. Facing The Music, And The Future

Chapter Six: Facing The Music, And The Future

 

 

     The doctor looked troubled, and had shut the door and walked halfway into the kitchen before noticing Jim standing there.

     “Hey, Jim, I can’t stay long. I need to talk to you about something and I wanted to do it person and not over some damn... .” McCoy’s voice trailed off as he took in Jim’s appearance. “You just get up? Where’s Spock?”

     Jim swallowed his mouthful of bread and tried for an innocent look. “He’s in the shower. We, uh, had an early start.”

     “Right. Well, when he gets out, can you, uh, send him somewhere for a while? Like I said, I need to run something by you and... .” Bones suddenly peered closer at his friend. “Jim, what the fuck is that on your neck?”

     Jim’s eyes widened and he ducked his head. “Nothing.”

     McCoy’s eyes narrowed and he stepped forward, his hazel gaze intense. “What did you do?”

     The captain gave a nervous laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bones. How did things go with Nyota?”

     The doctor was nodding, a strange expression on his face. “Probably about the same as they went here, from the looks of it.”

     Jim reached for an apple. “Oh, so you got a chance to talk, then.”

     The doctor snorted. “Kid, you’ve got a massive hickey on your neck and you’re barefoot in your sweatpants in the middle of the afternoon. And you look distinctly satisfied with yourself. Now either you’ve got that pair of Caitian twins stashed in the back somewhere or you and the hobgoblin... .”

     “Doctor.”

     Jim glanced over to see his bondmate looking somewhat severe, despite his return to his casual jeans and the long-sleeved white tunic. He had also made himself completely presentable and was even wearing shoes, which caused Jim to run a hand self-consciously through his own messy hair.

     Bones glanced from one to the other, seeming at a loss for words, and Jim finally took pity on his friend. “Bones. Listen. We, uh, well, we bonded.”

     The doctor’s voice was low. “You mean like you bonded over your mutual appreciation of the great outdoors?”

     Jim sighed. “We got Vulcan-bonded. Like a mental bond.”

     There was a loaded silence as McCoy’s eyebrows reached for his hairline, and the doctor suddenly smirked. “Then I guess y’all won’t be saying anything about me falling for Nyota.”

     Jim shook his head quickly. “Nope. No judgement. Congratulations, Bones. Uh, was that what you wanted to talk about?”

     The doctor ignored him, shooting an almost challenging look at Spock. The Vulcan merely raised an eyebrow and inclined his head. “I wish you happiness.”

     “Thanks,” Bones said gruffly. “And, uh, you, too, I guess.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes. “I should have just used the damn comm unit. Is that coffee ready yet?”

     Jim’s expression softened. “Almost.”

     Spock’s gaze traveled to his mate, and Jim sensed concern, a touch of background discomfort, and the continued pulse of nervous energy still being held under tightening control. The bond was not uncomfortable in his head, not like before when they had been physically apart, but Jim could feel a residual pull even now. He saw Spock’s shoulders straighten and the Vulcan raised his chin. “I will take my leave.”

     McCoy looked up hopefully, but Jim felt a pang of anxiety. “Where are you going?”

     “I will walk along the river, _t’hy’la_. I will not venture far.”

     “Okay.” Jim chewed his lip absently as he watched Spock walk past the doctor and out the front door.

     “Honeymoon not over?” Bones asked playfully. But his amused expression faded as he saw Jim’s furrowed brow.

     “The bond’s still, I don’t know, settling? We couldn’t be apart from each other for a while there, and I think he’s hurting more than me right now but he’s not showing it.”

     “So this is real? You and him?”

     “Yeah. Looks like you’ll have to change our files when we get back to the ship.”

     McCoy grunted. “Well, you aren’t the first captain to run off with the first officer." He paused. "You know they’re going to watch you both pretty closely.”

     Jim snorted. “I think they were already. Admiral O’Toole gives me a pile of shit about Nibiru every time I talk to him.”

     Bones moved past him to the coffee maker, which had been sitting with a green indicator light. He poured two generous mugs and passed one to Jim, his eyes raking over the captain’s form. “You look a little shaky. Want me to make you something? I do a good hummus sandwich; I know we had some of it left when I took off.”

     “Sure, Bones. Thanks.” Jim headed over to sit carefully at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee.

     McCoy busied himself with the food, glancing over at Jim casually. “What’s with the limp? Or shouldn’t I ask?”

     Jim chuckled. “Just remember that you did ask.” He shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. “Apparently a newly bonded couple goes through a phase of perpetual horniness. It kind of makes sense, in retrospect, as we needed to be close to each other.” He smirked. “I barely knew what hit me.”

     Bones slid a full plate in front of him and pulled his hand-held scanner out from his ever-present medkit, waving it in Jim’s direction. “You’re dehydrated, and your blood sugar’s out of whack. Eat that.”

     Jim’s mouth was already full, and he concentrated on his sandwich as he sensed Bones put a glass of water in front of him next to his mug. He saw a movement out of the corner of his eye an instant before he felt the cold sting of a hypospray against his neck. “Ow! Shit.”

     “Vitamin and electrolyte supplement. Have you even eaten since I left?” Bones winced. “Don’t answer that.”

     Jim swallowed. “So, let’s have it Bones. You and Uhura, huh?” He smiled, but he could feel his bondmate’s inner turmoil increasing slightly, could feel the pull becoming stronger. He decided to eat faster.

     McCoy sat down across from his friend, a rare gentle smile on his lips. “She’s amazing. Smart, damn attractive. Sexy as hell.” He ran his hand along the tabletop absently. “I never thought I’d feel this way after, well, after the ex. You know the story.” He made a face. “This is fucking awkward, isn’t it? They were together, and, what, a couple days later you’re hitched and I’m in love.”

     “I’m happy for you, Bones.” Jim chugged his water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

     McCoy scratched his head, leaning back in his seat and letting his long legs stretch out in front of him. “You sure you know what you’re doing, Jim? I mean, she and I talked about some stuff. That mental bond sounds pretty invasive.”

     “I’m okay. He didn’t force me into anything, if that’s what you’re implying. In fact, I think I kind of jumped him. Mentally. We melded and the bond just formed by itself.”

     The doctor pursed his lips. “No more twins?”

     Jim shook his head. “No more twins. I’ve got my hands full with one half-Vulcan.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Actually, speaking of which, I might have to, uh, take a break for a few minutes here.”

     McCoy’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

     Just then the door opened and Spock stepped through, his posture stiff and his hands held in fists at his sides. He cast one intense glance at Jim before vanishing towards the bedrooms.

     Jim stood up. “Thanks for the sandwich, Bones. You sticking around or are you headed back topside?”

     The doctor’s mouth was open. “Uh, I was going to actually meet Nyota in Hawaii for the last couple days of leave. My transport is scheduled for a few hours from now.” He glanced behind the captain. “I’m guessing you won’t be offended if I skip out.”

     Jim could feel the bond strongly in his head, the pull to his mate undeniable. “Nope. I’ll see you back on the ship.” He took a step away from the table, shrugging. “I’m guessing this will all be cleared up by then.”

     McCoy waved a hand at him. “I hope so; I don’t want to have to explain why the command team can’t make it out of their quarters. Good luck, Jim.” He shook his head. “Oh, and take a break to eat something from now on, for fuck’s sake.”

     “Sure, Bones. Thanks.” Jim flashed his friend a grin and turned to follow his mate.

 

 

 

     Jim walked into his room to find Spock sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up at him expectantly.

     “Hey, baby.” He rolled his shoulders, wincing slightly as his muscles twinged, and he felt his mate’s anxiety flow along the bond, skimming over the pulse of longing between them. “Just give me a minute and I’ll... .”

     His words were cut off by a warm embrace and the press of a hard body against his own. The bond expanded and he could feel suddenly that his mate didn’t need sexual release, but merely wished for his touch. He relaxed into Spock’s arms, feeling the Vulcan’s head come down to bury itself in his neck. They stood that way for several minutes, and Jim heard Spock’s muffled voice. “McCoy?”

     Jim rubbed his cheek absently across silky hair. “He left.”

     “I apologize for my lack of control.”

     Jim chuckled softly. “Well, he’s headed off to a sunny beach with your ex-girlfriend, so I don’t think he’s going to hold it against you.” He shifted his weight. “Let me touch you.”

     It was a far more sensual experience, this time, undressing each other carefully and slowly, the afternoon light painting their bodies with golden tones. Jim stood in front of his bondmate, looking into brown eyes, reaching out a hand to brush across a cheekbone and through dark hair, lightly caressing a pointed ear, feeling Spock lean into his touch. He stroked down, running his hand along the side of his mate’s neck and across his shoulder, down his arm and back up again. He stepped forward, tilting his head and lightly brushing their lips together, letting his other hand trail up and down his mate’s back.

     They kissed for endless minutes, slowly exploring each other’s mouths, and Jim’s hand moved up to stroke into black hair, enjoying the soft feel of it through his fingers. The press of their bodies against each other had dampened the urgency of the bond and Jim slowly pushed his mate backwards towards the bed.

     The kiss broke as they climbed into bed and simply held each other under the blankets. Jim breathed his mate’s scent in deeply and exhaled, feeling any lingering tension disappear, sensing Spock’s own relaxation and contentment.

     “This feels right, you know. You and me.” Jim heard Spock make a low sound of acknowledgment and smiled. “I’m glad we got here.”

     “As am I, _t’hy’la_.”

     Jim took a breath and pulled back slightly. “Meld with me?”

     Spock’s hand came up to his face, caressing his skin as he had done before, although this time Jim could already feel the love and anticipation welling up along their mental connection even before warm fingers gently slipped over his meld points.

_This time Jim felt himself falling directly to that place of warmth, of home, and was immediately surrounded by the powerful emotions that he had sought, his own soaring out of him to meet, to intertwine, intensifying his experience to dizzying heights._

_He could understand, now, this place called ‘_ t’hy’la _’, a place that held everything that he wished for as friend, everything that he expected as brother, and now everything he dared to need as lover. It held each part, and, yet, transcended each part; would have been somehow incomplete without each part. As they would have been incomplete without each other._

_Jim let his mind wander, let it explore past memories both painful and pleasant. He felt again, now shared, the experience of his death and awakening, and he felt his heart break with the realization of how close they had come to losing everything before they had even known it to be so._

_They moved closer, and closer still. Through remembrances of shared joys, and pulse-pounding danger, through rivalry and camaraderie, through curiosity and respect and, finally, love. Through the whispers of memories left from Jim’s meld with Spock’s counterpart and an extraordinary realization that perhaps this was meant to be all along._

 

     Jim came back to himself reluctantly, finding his own hand pressing Spock’s fingers still to his face. His head ached slightly, and he was surprised to find their room in darkness. He drew in a shaky breath and smiled. “I’m never going to get over wanting that.”

     “ _Talukh nash-veh k’dular, t’hy’la_.”

     Jim’s smile broadened into a grin, sensing the meaning of his mate’s words from the thrum of emotions over the bond. “I love you, too.”

 

 

 

     Much later, Jim stood on the deck of their cabin, wearing a fleece and jeans to combat the chill in the air, watching the first beams of sunlight break over the canyon walls, listening to the rush of the nearby river breaking over the rocks. He contemplated the constancy of the sound of the water, and thought of the conversation he had with Spock, just days ago, when they had first talked of love. He looked down at his hands, remembering the first touch of his friend’s fingers that had electrified his skin, and invited him to want more. He considered his hesitation, and his fears, and the certainty of love that had encouraged him to take a chance. He thought of their meld, and the joyous headlong rush he had made into their bond. He recalled the passion, and the tenderness, the need, and the sense of completion. Finally, he looked up to the sky, to the glimmering lights of the stars slowly fading in the encroaching dawn, and thought of the future, to ongoing adventures with his bondmate always at his side. And he smiled.

 

 

THE END

 

 

Chapter End Notes:

 

 

Inspired, of course, by E.E. Cummings’ poem “I Carry Your Heart”

 

 

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek, and I do not make any money from this.

 

 


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